


Uncle Enoch

by stjarna



Series: Season 7 spec fics [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, because as much as I loved the finale we were robbed of some A+ Enoch scene opportunities, canon-compliant major character death implied in last chapter, fitzsimmons family, otherwise fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: A collection of mini blobs and scenes of Enoch and Fitzsimmons during pregnancy and after Alya is born.
Relationships: Enoch & Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Series: Season 7 spec fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1446757
Comments: 51
Kudos: 96
Collections: Fics with Major Character Death warning by stjarna (some are still sort of happy-end-ish), Fluffy and Funny Fics by stjarna, Let Our Children Rest - A Collection of Happy Fitzsimmons Fics, The Domestic Collection





	1. (Very) early during the pregnancy

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to @dilkirani for the beta
> 
> If you have ideas for additional Uncle Enoch scenes, send me a prompt in a comment or on Tumblr (@the-nerdy-stjarna) and I will see what I can do.

Enoch walked up the ramp to the Zephyr, balancing an assortment of bags and boxes and dragging a big, flat box behind himself, as the ramp slowly closed.

“I was able to procure a number of items that I presumed would be valuable,” Enoch announced, his head invisible behind all the things he carried. “Materials that should be suitable for a crib, baby bottles, an assortment of diapers in varying sizes—or nappies as you would say, clothing for the infant for varying age ranges, as well as some maternity clothes that I hope you will find quite stylish despite their alien origin. Luckily, several alien species share certain similarities with humans, so it wasn’t too difficult to find items that should be compatible. All in all, I believe we won’t have to make another supply run for quite some time.”

“Umm, Enoch, this—this is great—really,” Fitz remarked, gesturing at the supplies in the Chronicom’s arms, “even though Jemma is only a few weeks pregnant, but—any chance you also got the materials for the time jump drive I asked you to look for?”

Enoch dropped the bags and boxes to the ground, ticking his head to one side. “Oh dear.”


	2. Morning sickness

Enoch entered the kitchen area, where Jemma was preparing a cup of tea for herself.

“How are you feeling, Jemma Simmons?” the Chronicom inquired.

“Nauseated,” Jemma replied tiredly.

Enoch stepped closer, extending his hands in Jemma’s direction. “If I may?” 

Jemma looked at him in mild confusion but allowed him to take her wrists, applying pressure at a certain point at their center with his fingers. She started to feel her nausea lose some of its effect.

“Acupressure points,” she exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“In my time as an anthropologist, I often heard people refer to ‘pregnancy brain’ as an ailment that affects the memory of pregnant females,” Enoch replied matter-of-factly, continuing to hold Jemma’s wrists. “Maybe you have been affected as well.”

Jemma chuckled in acknowledgment. “Too bad you applying pressure to my wrists isn’t a long-term solution.”

Enoch raised his eyebrows. “My hands are detachable, so theoretically—”

Jemma laughed out loud. “How about we just try to manufacture something that doesn’t require amputation of your extremities.”

Enoch ticked his head to one side. “I suppose that would be preferred.”


	3. The birth

Fitz placed his hands on his hips, looking at the mechanical parts on the workbench. “Okay, so, I think we have all the components we need.”

“And it will be my responsibility to distribute them with the appropriate instructions,” Enoch summarized their plan.

“Exactly,” Fitz confirmed, placing a hand on Enoch’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, buddy, that Jemma will have to leave you behind, but—”

“Not to worry,” Enoch reassured his friend. “I am quite prepared for the task.”

“Fitz, Enoch,” Jemma interrupted their conversation, her voice strangely strained.

“Yes?” Enoch and Fitz replied in unison.

“I think I’m in labor.”

Enoch raised his eyebrows, looking at Fitz, whose eyes had doubled in size. “Oh dear.”

* * *

“Jemma Simmons, I urge you to push now,” Enoch said in his usual matter-of-fact voice, but Fitz still noticed a hint of urgency in the Chronicom’s tone.

“Ugh,” Jemma groaned through the contraction, gripping Fitz’s hand even more tightly and pushing her chin against her chest.

“Well done,” Enoch complimented Jemma when the contraction subsided. “In my estimation, you only have two or three more contractions before your child will be born.”

“Oh, God, I hope it’s not more than that,” Jemma remarked exhaustedly, before her face contorted. “Aaahhh, next one.”

“You are progressing very nicely,” Enoch replied, not showing any signs of surprise. “Continue the pushing process.”

He tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on Jemma’s netherregions. “The head is emerging. As challenging as it may be, Jemma, keep going!”

Moments later, the room was filled with the quiet screams of a newborn baby. Enoch laid the squirming body on Jemma’s chest, who immediately cradled her baby.

“Congratulations, it is a female,” Enoch declared.

“We have a daughter,” Jemma said lovingly, looking at Fitz.

“She’s perfect,” Fitz replied, pressing a kiss to Jemma’s forehead.

“Have you chosen a name for your child yet?” Enoch inquired.

Jemma’s lips pulled into a wide smile. She exchanged a quick knowing glance with Fitz, before replying, “Alya.”

Enoch raised his eyebrows. “That seems rather fitting. A good choice, I would say.”


	4. Sleep deprivation

“How are you today, Fitz?” Enoch asked, entering the lab.

“What?” Fitz looked up, his brain in a fog.

“I asked how you are today,” Enoch reiterated.

“Umm, yes, I—” Fitz stammered, before rubbing his face with his hands. “Ugh—tired. I’m tired. Alya, she’s—her sleep schedule—she’s just not—” He pulled on the roots of his hair, trying to energize his brain. “I can’t even formulate complete sentences anymore. How in the world am I supposed to—” He gestured at the mechanical parts in front of him. “What even are these pieces?”

“Have you considered a white noise machine?” Enoch asked. “In my time as an anthropologist I frequently heard that such devices often prove successful in helping young children fall and stay asleep.”

Once again, Fitz gestured at the parts in front of him. “I’m a little busy trying to build a time machine. When in the world am I supposed to find time to—”

He paused, when white noise suddenly filled the room. He turned to face Enoch, who stood motionless with his mouth open, the white noise emanating from it like a speaker.

Fitz pointed at the Chronicom. “That might just be worth a try.”

* * *

“And you’re sure you don’t mind sitting with her?” Jemma asked, holding on to the doorframe to Alya’s room.

“Not in the least,” Enoch replied, sitting with his hands on his lap next to the crib. “I am quite pleased that I can be of assistance.”

“Thank you, Enoch,” Fitz said, “If this works, then we owe you—more than we already owe you.”


	5. Babysitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by a prompt from @agl03

“Okay, we’re just going out for supplies,” Fitz explained, looking at Alya, who was sitting in her bouncy chair, smiling at her father. “Daddy needs to look at the materials himself, so that’s why Uncle Enoch can’t go. But we’ll only be an hour—two hours tops, Monkey.”

“I assure you, Fitz, there is no need to be concerned,” Enoch remarked, standing with his hands interlaced behind his back next to his bestie. “In my time as an anthropologist, I have had ample opportunities to interact with children of varying ages. I am quite capable of looking after Alya while you and Jemma Simmons go on your supply run. Moreover, Alya has yet to achieve forward movement of any kind. She is overall rather immobile. This should make the task even less challenging.”

“Enoch is right, Fitz,” Jemma chimed in. “He’ll be fine. I have complete confidence in him. Let’s go. We haven’t left this ship since Alya was born. It’ll be good for us to have some alone time, even if it’s just to get supplies.”

“Fine,” Fitz sighed, before straightening up, raising his index finger in front of Enoch’s face. “One hour—two hours tops.”

* * *

Enoch stood in front of Alya’s bouncy chair, looking down at the baby. He moved his right foot forward. “You extend your right extremity to the front.” He moved his right foot behind himself. “You extend your right extremity to the aft.” He shuffled his foot back and forth. “Front. Aft. Front. Aft. Then move it in quick succession. You do what is known as the ‘Hokey Pokey’ and you rotate on your own axis.” He turned around until he faced Alya again. “And that—for all intents and purposes—is what it is all about.”

Alya began to giggle, wiggling her legs and arms, which caused her chair to bounce up and down.

Enoch looked down at the baby, raising his eyebrows. “I must say, you are easily entertained.”

His head spun to the side when an alarm suddenly sounded, a loud voice announcing “Intruder alarm” over the speakers.

“Oh dear,” Enoch remarked, before bending down to pick up Alya. He held her in front of his face, addressing her directly. “Alya, it is of the utmost importance that you remain quiet.”

But the baby’s face contorted, startled by the sudden loud noise, and she began wailing loudly.

“That is,” Enoch yelled, trying to overcome the sound of the alarm as well as the crying baby, “the opposite of ‘remaining quiet.’”

He paused for a moment, before muttering “Oh well, it will have to do.” He briefly set Alya back into her bouncy chair, reached for the baby carrier and put it on, before placing Alya inside of it.

At that moment, the space pirates entered the room.

Enoch faced them, his hands hanging loosely by his side, the still crying baby cradled against his chest, safely secured in her carrier. “I must insist that you leave the premises immediately, or face the consequences of your intrusion.”

“And what consequences would that be?” the head of the band of invaders asked cockily.

“You have been warned,” Enoch said matter-of-factly, taking one step forward, placing one arm around Alya to keep her more securely, and using the other, as well as his feet, to make short work of the intruders.

* * *

“How did it go?” Fitz asked the second he stepped onto the Zephyr, putting his supplies down on a workbench. He looked at Enoch, who was standing in the cargo bay, cradling Alya in his arms. 

“Is she asleep?” Jemma remarked, a smile playing on her lips.

“She is indeed,” Enoch replied. “It all went perfectly well, as I assured you it would. First I executed the Hokey Pokey for her, then we thwarted a band of intruders, after which I ensured she took in some nourishment. Then she fell asleep. It was—all in all—rather uneventful.”

“Did you just say ‘thwarted a band of intruders’?” Fitz hissed through gritted teeth, so as not to wake his baby daughter.

“I did indeed,” Enoch confirmed matter-of-factly. “But they left rather quickly once I engaged them in combat.”

“Engaged them in—” Fitz raised his hands in resignation. “That’s it. I’m never leaving this ship again.”

“Fitz, I’m not sure that’s entirely feasible,” Jemma chimed in, gesturing at Enoch. “And Enoch seems to have handled the situation rather well. I mean, let’s face it, who would fare better in a fight against space pirates—us or Enoch?”

“Yes, well, but—” Fitz stammered, before sighing deeply.

“I assure you Alya was in no danger,” Enoch stated. “As you know, I will always defend her with my life.”

  
  



	6. Alya’s first birthday

“Congratulations on completing the first year of your life, Alya,” Enoch remarked, laying an oddly shaped wrapped present in front of the birthday girl. “To many more, I believe is the correct phrase.”

“Eno!” Alya babbled excitedly, trying to reach for her Chronicom uncle.

“Oh, Enoch,” Jemma said, “you didn’t have to get her anything.”

“It is customary,” Enoch replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, should we see what Uncle Enoch got you?” Fitz asked his daughter, who was playing with the colorful ribbon on her gift.

Jemma and Fitz helped Alya unwrap her gift, who squealed with delight, grabbing the plush animal.

Jemma eyed the toy in Alya’s hands. “Is that—?”

“—a replica of a primate from Earth,” Enoch confirmed.

“How did you find a stuffed monkey in the middle of space?” Fitz asked, surprised.

“During my time as an anthropologist I acquired many valuable skills,” Enoch responded. “It was merely a matter of acquiring the raw materials.”

“You made this?” Fitz exclaimed, in a mix of shock and adoration.

“I did indeed,” was Enoch’s only reply. “Now, shall we cut the cake?”

  
  



	7. Playtime

“Hey, you two, what are you up to?” Fitz asked, looking at Enoch and Alya.

“We’re space monkeys!” Alya exclaimed excitedly, while Enoch opened his mouth, filling the room with authentic monkey noises.

“Oh, wow,” Fitz remarked wide-eyed. “That’s—impressive.”

* * *

“Hey, what are you up to?” Jemma asked.

“Uncle Enoch is my horsey!” Alya explained from where she was sitting on Enoch’s back.

Enoch opened his mouth, neighing loudly.

“Go, horsey, go!” Alya exclaimed, kicking her heels into Enoch’s side.

Jemma laughed out loud as Enoch trotted forward. “Alright, you two have fun.”

* * *

“Hey, what are you doing?” Jemma asked, looking at where Enoch and Alya were sitting around the coffee table.

“We’re having a tea party,” Alya explained, putting half a biscuit on Enoch’s plate.

“It is a rather delightful experience,” the Chronicom added, lifting his tea cup higher.

“Do you want to play, too?” Alya asked, smiling widely.

“Oh, well, of course, sweetie,” Jemma replied, taking her seat at the table.

“Da! You too!” Alya demanded, her eyes shining brightly with joy.

“Alright, monkey,” Fitz told their daughter, stepping closer and sitting down next to Enoch.

* * *

“Uncle Enoch?” Alya asked quietly, standing in the small sleeping chamber they’d built in half of the containment pod.

“Yes, Alya,” Enoch replied, crouching down to be at her eye level.

“When you and Mama come back, can you play with me?” Alya asked, looking at the Chronicom with big, worried eyes.

“I would be delighted,” Enoch responded, “—as I have always been.”

Alya gave Enoch a big hug. “I love you, Uncle Enoch.”

Enoch hugged the little girl a bit more tightly. “I am rather fond of you myself, Alya FitzSimmons.” He leaned back, holding on to Alya’s shoulders to look at her more directly. “And whatever happens, I have and always will be your Uncle Enoch.”

* * *

“Mama?” Alya’s voice was quiet where she stood just outside the containment unit in the middle of the jungle.

“Yes, sweetie,” Jemma remarked.

“Where is Uncle Enoch?”

Jemma swallowed, her eyes becoming watery. She tucked her daughter’s hair behind her ear. “Oh, honey, he—he couldn’t come back.”

Alya’s lips pulled into a frown and tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. “But he said he would play with me.”

“I know. I know, Alya,” Jemma squeezed her daughter’s shoulders tightly. “But he—he sacrificed himself to save you and all of us.”

Alya wrinkled her forehead. “What does ‘sacrifice’ mean?”

“It means that he did something very brave to help us,” Jemma explained. “He gave us his heart.”

“Was he scared?”

A sad smile spread across Jemma’s face. “He wanted to make sure that we would all be safe—especially you, so he gave his life happily and willingly. Maybe he was a little sad to be leaving, but he wasn’t alone. I don’t think he was scared, maybe just for a moment. He was always so brave, wasn’t he—like you?”

“Yes, he was.” Alya smiled, before her expression became more serious again. “Mama?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I’ll miss him.”

“I know, Alya.” Jemma hugged her daughter, before grabbing her by her shoulders, forcing an encouraging smile. “We will all miss him, but we will all remember him, and that means he will never be fully gone.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the sad ending, but I just imagined how sad Alya will be when she realizes that Uncle Enoch isn't there and I just had to write it.


End file.
